


The Gift of Knowledge

by Galindrael



Series: A Very Dragon Age Christmas [20]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, DECFANFIC, Day twenty, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Not what you're thinking, Presents, i did add actual presents though jic, still trash at staying to prompts, to be fair not what I was thinking either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:59:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galindrael/pseuds/Galindrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A direct continuation of A Guy What Takes His Time (Day 19) of the A Very Dragon Age Christmas Series;</p><p>The Inquisition's needs and the fight for Thedas stops for no one. Not even Scáthach despite her current state. A routine trip to Val Royeaux turns out to be much more dangerous that anticipated. And some things that should have stayed quiet were, well... shouted.</p><p>For the #DecFanFic contest.</p><p>There are currently 22 parts to this series, the link, for some reason is broken- sorry for the issue, I'm trying to fix it (as of 1 February 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift of Knowledge

Scáthach left Cullen a note and went down to sign for the shipment of medical supplies for the Inquisition with a smile on her face and an indifference to how early it was. The smell of breakfast called to her as she stood outside in one of Cullen’s over-sized furs; she could smell coffee and rolls and meat. _Maker, I’m starving._ She turned her head towards the gate to watch for the woman to return with the last bit of paperwork and when she turned her head into the dark furs she could still smell her Commander on them, all leather and metal and earth. _He smells wonderful._ She glanced back to the gate, then around the courtyard to see that no one was paying her any particular mind so she turned her face into the furs and took a deep breath, breathing him in.

“Lady Inquisitor?” Scáthach jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice.

“Yes, sorry, I’ll take that,” Scáthach took the clipboard into her hands, scanned the document and counted the boxes coming in, “Everything looks to be in order, my requisitions officers will pay you as soon as they check the contents,” she signed the document and caught the woman staring at the keep’s main hall, “You and your men are welcome to stay for a hot meal and rest, if you should need to do so,” she smiled, “or want, either way”.

The woman physically startled, “That is a generous offer, my Lady,” half-bowed,” If you are sure it would not burden the Inquisition’s resources, I’m sure my men would enjoy a warm place to sleep and hot meal in their bellies”.

“Well, enjoy some breakfast and have a guardsman escort you to Ambassador Montilyet, she can set you and your men up with rooms,” Scáthach smiled.

 

When Scáthach was finished, she headed back to the keep then to her usual seat. She pulled her chair in she was met with resistance; she looked under the table to see a bucket had gotten stuck and she kicked it out of her way into the corner. One of the kitchen staff, the red headed girl with the bright eyes and thick accent, brought her a plate and a cup of coffee. _Thank the Maker, I am absolutely famished._  Scáthach ate mostly in peace, the occasional word or paper to sign shot to her. About half-way through her meal Scáthach noticed she was sweating and her meal had not settled as it was starting to make her nauseous. She sat up, back rigged, as she reached for the water pitcher and sipped. That did absolutely nothing as she felt the need to throw up overcome her; Scáthach shot up, grabbed the bucket and headed into the empty corridor to her left. _I feel awful. I hope this isn’t catching. I should see if Solas has more peppermint leaves._ After she dealt with the bucket, she made her way to Solas’.

 

Scáthach opened the door slowly to see Solas quite awake with a book in front of him. He looked up, softly smiled, and placed a marker in between the pages before shutting it.

“Good morning,” he stood up now noticing her complexion, “Are you well, Inquisitor?”

“No, I’m afraid,” she shut the door and walked towards the middle where Solas was.

“May I?” he lifted his hands.

Scáthach laughed, “Of course”.

Solas placed a hand on her head, “You are quite warm. If I may ask, why did you come to me,” he placed the back of his hand on her cheek then on the pulse-point on her neck.

“I threw up breakfast,” she turned her head away from him as she realized her breath was probably less than delightful, “I came for peppermint leaves so I can make tea”.

“Well, let’s see if you even need them,” he hovered his hands over stomach and abdomen and let out tendrils of healing magic and smiled, “There, you should feel better,” he smiled.

“I, uhm,” she huffed, “I feel the same, actually,” Solas’ brow furrowed then realization dawned upon his face.

“This may be inappropriate of me,” Solas looked to the side then back to her when he was satisfied with his wording, “How have you been feeling lately, overall, I mean? Have you been _normal?_ ”

“An upset stomach is my constant state of being,” Solas smiled,  “but it’s been that way my whole life,” his smile turned into pursed lips, “this isn’t new, but the actual throwing up is. Other than that, pretty normal, I think?”.

“I see,” he sighed, “Anything else? Headaches? Strange cravings? Tenderness?” he placed his hands on his hips. _Constant headache. Always sore. I ate duck…willingly._

Scáthach furrowed her brows, “Yes, actually,” she took a side step to angle herself to Solas, a habit when fighting, “Should I be worried?”

“That entirely depends on how you feel,” he started saying.

“I feel terrible,” she interrupted.

“I mean how you feel about,” Solas stopped, reconsidering “Come sit,“ he gestured to the couch and although confused she did.

Scáthach felt her heartbeat accelerate, _something is wrong,_ “What do you think it is? It must be terrible if you’re having me sit already,” her hands lightly shaking as she gripped the fabric of the couch.

“What I meant was,” he looked away and kneeled, then returned his gaze “I meant how you feel about having children”.

Scáthach let out a panicked laugh, “That’s not funny, Solas,” she sucked in a shaky breath.

“I’m afraid I’m not joking, da’len,” he took her hands in his and was surprised when she gripped his back and he could feel her shaking, “Everything will be alright”.

Scáthach’s hearing was replaced by a ringing in her ear, she had tunnel vision and she was just staring at his hands. _Solas has long, slender fingers, his hands are soft, Cullen’s are rough, strong scarred hands. I can’t be- I’m pregnant._ Suddenly, her mind was racing. _I’m having a child out of wed-lock. Cullen and I have never talked about- what about Corypheus? How am I going to tell Cullen? What about his family? What about **my** family? How am I going to keep up appearances? How am I going to hide the swell of my belly? How are we going to keep this from leaving Skyhold? What if Cullen doesn’t want children? What if I don’t want- do I want? Fuck. I took the preventative measures, we were safe how-_

 

Cullen opened the door suddenly and they made eye-contact, _fuck._ Scáthach’s heart started racing even faster and she couldn’t look to him.

“What is going on,” his voice was demanding, concerned.

Solas looked to her, asking for permission and she nodded, “Come with me,” Solas stood and tried to steer Cullen away.

“Are you alright,” Cullen asked, ignoring Solas. _Please just go with Solas. I need a moment, please._

“She is fine, come with me,” Solas reassured him but Cullen wouldn’t budge until Scáthach made eye-contact and confirmed what Solas said with a nod.

Cullen let Solas lead him out onto the snow-covered battlements.

 

As soon as the door shut behind them, Scáthach let out a muffled sobs, keeping her hand over her mouth just in case anyone was listening. _I need- we need to talk in private._ Scáthach stood up and wrote Cullen a note, telling him she’d be back in their room when he was ready to have this discussion. Scáthach wiped away the tear and calmed down as much as she could before she put a smile on her face, said hello to passing patrons and headed back to their room. Scáthach sat in front of their fireplace and waited for him. Cullen was up later, Scáthach was unsure about how much time had passed herself, but it felt like hours. In reality in was minuets.

When Cullen opened the door, Scáthach stood, anxiety and fear filled Scáthach immediately and she was surprised that she was even able to look Cullen in the eyes. He walked over and scooped her in his arms, a tight hug so she couldn’t bolt for the door. Cullen nuzzled into her hair and she buried her face into his chest, silent tears running down her face. Cullen shifted to place his chin on top of her head before he placed a kiss on her forehead and softly chuckled, “I’m going to be a father”.

Scáthach laughed, relieved to hear he didn’t sound angry or upset, just in shock like she was. He placed two fingers under her chin and made her look at him, “I do hope those are tears of joy,” he smiled.

“And sheer panic,” she added.

“Fair enough,” he kissed her cheek.

“How is this- How are we going to do,” a knock on the door interrupted them.

Cullen rounded, annoyed at the poor messenger, “What is it?”

A young boy, the one that usually helped Dennet, looked startled at Cullen’s tone, “Sorry, Commander, but the Inquisitor’s carriage is here”.

 

“Oh, shit,” Scáthach sighed, she had completely forgot about the meeting, “Thank you, tell them to have lunch and then I’ll be down as soon as I can,” she rubbed her temples.

“Yes, Lady Inquisitor,” and the boy took off.

Cullen turned around, “What are you doing? You can’t go now, now that we know,” he couldn’t say the word, despite him wanting to.

“I _have_ to go, Cullen, my being apparently pregnant stops nothing in this war,” she said sternly, reminding him that she was still the face of the Inquisition.

He sighed, “Where are you off to? How long will you be gone?” Cullen’s voice was tense, upset that she was going to leave him with this information.

“Val Royeaux, a breakfast meeting tomorrow, then I’d leave either right after or the next morning,” she answered.

“I’m coming with you,” Cullen stated. _Not a question, he’s going with me no matter what I say_.

“Cullen…” she sighed.

“No, Scáthach, this one you’re not talking me out of,” Cullen reaffirmed her assumptions, “We need to talk about this and you need a guard,” Cullen turned to pack a quick bag.

“I’m fine, Cullen, I have a guard already there, they’ve been canvasing this past week,” she tried to reassure him as she started to pack her bag as well.

“No offense to them, but they’re not me,” he went to the vanity and grabbed his grooming kit before he closed his bag.

“No, they’re not,” she walked to him and hugged him once more before she opened the closet to get a vial of her lyrium, “Oh...Cullen,” he turned to see her holding it in her hand, “is it safe to- to take this?”

His eyes darted to the vial, “I’ll ask Solas,” Cullen turned.

 

“You’ll ask me what,” both of them jumped when he spoke up, just coming up their stairs, “Sorry, the door was opened and I pulled notes on what not to eat and-“ he noticed their bags, “You’re going somewhere?”

“I have to, there’s a meeting in Val Royeaux. Should I,” she paused, “Can I take my lyrium?”

“I know the mages have no trouble taking it when with child, some fear if they take it they could increase the chance of having a mage child, but there’s no real correlation,” Solas walked over and handed Scáthach a stack of papers, “A list of things not to eat or do, all my notes of the relevant subjects…I think you should take enough so you’re not sick, not much more as I’m not sure how it works for Templars. I will look into while you are gone”.

“If you find something, use my bird. It’s in my office,” Cullen removed his key from his belt and handed it to Solas.

“Thank you,” Scáthach said,  and Solas was about to descend the stairs then worry settled in, “Solas,” he turned back around, “Please don’t say anything to anyone”.

“Of course,” he smiled then bowed, “Dareth shiral, da’len” and Scáthach bowed in return.

\--

Scáthach and Cullen got their affairs in order then made their way to the stables to pack the carriage with their clothes, weapons, and armor. Once Cullen and Scáthach were on their way to Val Royeaux, they finally had a moment to talk.

“Cullen,” she paused, “How do you feel-” he interrupted

“Yes,” Cullen answered.

“What?” she looked confused.

“You were going to ask how I felt about children, right?” Cullen asked

She laughed, “I wasn’t but,” she put her head on his shoulder and grabbed his hand, “But that certainly makes me feel better”.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “Sorry, what were you going to ask,” he rubbed his thumb across her hand.

“How you felt about keeping the pregnancy to ourselves,” she paused, “While we can, that is”.

“Oh,” Cullen’s heart sank slightly, an uneasy feeling settling over him, “I never thought- I guess that’s appropriate giving our circumstance,” he shifted.

Scáthach looked to him, “I’m sorry Cullen,” she sighed, “it’s just we’re raising an army. I can’t let them think I’m weak in anyway. If they knew now we could lose support or troops volunteering and I want to keep that from happening for as long as possible”.

“I see,” his jaw clenched. _She’s right, I know. She can’t hide it forever. “_ Makes sense, I guess. Well, when do you want to say something to the others?”

“We’ll tell them when people start saying I’ve gotten fat,” she smiled at Cullen.

“They call you that in front of me, they’ll not talk again,” Cullen laughed.

“Cullen…” he looked to her and she smiled widely, “We’re going to have a baby”.

“I know, dear,” he leaned down and kissed her, smiling widely.

“When we get back to Skyhold we should talk more about, well, everything now, I suppose, now that we’re expecting,” she sighed.

“Alright, when we get back we’ll plan out as much as possible, ok?”

“I think that’s the best plan of attack you’ve had yet,” she jested.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “Well, how about this one,” he kissed her and she snickered while he did so.

 

To absolutely no one’s surprise, they talked about getting ready to welcome a child to Skyhold. Out of consideration, they intended to at least tell the other advisers when they returned; Josephine could help with the scheduling and Leliana could help keep the rumors at bay as well as smuggle in things like a crib and a midwife under the guise of just another healer. Cullen wrote down only what was necessary as a reminder for when they got back and Scáthach made sure to point fun at Cullen’s constant note taking.  They arrived late into Val Royeaux and, Maker, help them, it was only because she’s the Inquisitor that they allowed them in after the gates were locked for the evening. Cullen and Scáthach immediately went to the tavern where their soldiers were stationed and planned for the next day before heading off to sleep for the night.

 

 

The next morning everything seemed to be rushed. Cullen didn’t have time to shave, Scáthach didn’t have time to re-read the requests of the nobles and scholars who were meeting at the University of Orlais for ‘discussion’ about the Inquisition; truly, it was a meeting with Briala’s, Empress Celene’s and King Alistair’s agents to update each other and gain insight into what each expects, wants and are willing to do in order to help fight the rebel mages, Calpernia, and Corypheus. Empress Celene, expressing great gratitude for saving her life, offered more Chevaliers for security and spies within Orlais as well as a _very_ generous donation to arm those fighting. King Alistair offered scholars, equipment and soldiers. Briala offered her elven spies _only_ because she felt the fight was necessary. The meeting, although intense, was short. They were out of the University before lunch giving Scáthach and Cullen plenty of time to relax for the rest of the day as Scáthach had talked Cullen into leaving tomorrow morning.

 

“Can we go to the market, Commander?” Scáthach was walking beside Cullen who was walking slowly beside her.

“I…don’t know,” he watched the people bustling around the market centre, an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach, “I don’t think we should stay, Inquisitor,” he kept watching, hand on his sword at-the-ready but no out-right suspicious characters to be seen. Still, if he was uneasy, she should be as well; he looked to her then to her dagger and back to her eyes, Scáthach catching his hint.

Their guard had fanned into the crowd to provide defense to the Inquisitor should the need arise. Scáthach gripped her dagger from her hip and slipped it into her sleeve, holding the hilt just in case.

“Well, how about we just grab a few things from the square and then we’ll head back to the tavern?”

Cullen looked up to see their guards watching them and their surroundings for danger. _They’re not morons and at least a couple of them seem as uneasy as I do._ Cullen put them on alert and looked back to Scáthach, “Alright, let’s be quick”.

 

Scáthach went to the first stall and Cullen stood directly behind her, still scanning the crowd as she purchased gifts for their Skyhold companions; things that they didn’t receive for Satinalia that she knew they were after. Mostly, it was little things like a new quill for Josephine, or a whet stone for Cole. Most vendors offered it to be delivered to Skyhold with their next shipment, or held in storage until tomorrow to load it on their carriage so when they were done, all Scáthach was holding was a bottle of champagne, “for appearances”, a small fresh-cut and packaged cheeses and they were on their way to make their last purchase at the small fruit vendor by the bowyer.

 

“Commander could you grab some crisp apples?” he looked to her and she was holding some strange-looking fruit in her hand.

“I, uh, am not sure,” she startled.

“You’ve knocked over some fruit with your sword, Commander,” Cullen looked down and saw a pear roll under the display.

They both bent down to help pick up the mess and he noticed Scáthach start to walk to the square to get the orange that had rolled away before Cullen said he’d get it. _Maker this thing rolled far._ When he bent down to pick up the orange a quick shadow darted across his line of vision just as the Chantry bells started ringing. Cullen looked up and his heart lurched, someone in all black was running across the rooftops while staring at their hit: Scáthach. _No._

Cullen yelled her name and he dropped their basket in favor of his sword, but the bells were echoing in the courtyard and it was so loud that she hadn’t heard his call. The other guardsmen noticed Cullen’s reaction and began to collapse to the Inquisitor. Cullen shot a look to the assassin who was now aiming at her. _No. She hasn’t heard me she doesn’t know- I’m not going to make it_.Cullen pushed himself as hard as he could and sprinted for Scáthach. _Not her._ The bells stopped ringing. _Not my child._ The first shot hit his sword and the impact reverberated up the metal but Cullen never loosened his grip; it hitting the sword and not her was sheer luck and that utterly terrified him. The crowd was reacting to Cullen’s drawn sword and as Scáthach turned to face Cullen he dropped his sword and grabbed her by her shoulders then pushed her out of the way just as he felt a white-hot burning sensation in his shoulder. Scáthach looked up to see Cullen wincing and kneeling in front of her with an arrow sticking in his shoulder.

“Scáthach, run!” he demanded but she looked to the roof and saw the assassin running across and all she could think about was how she would not let them get away. She turned to the bowyer stand, grabbed one of the arrows she had knocked off the table when Cullen shoved her out of the way and nocked the arrow, aimed and pulled. She hit the assassin’s thigh and they fell to the ground from the third story- dying on impact. People screamed, the Orlesian guards doing their best to calm the panicked frenzy.

“Cullen,” she ran to him and tentatively pulled the fabric back and as she did she caught the over-whelming stench of deathroot, “He’s been poisoned- deathroot! Either bring me a healer or lead us to one!” She shouted at one of her guardsmen. One of them immediately bolted to, hopefully, a healer.

Cullen was breathing so hard that Scáthach thought he was going to pass out right there. She ripped the bottom of her shirt and made a compress around the arrow. _No, Cullen, no._ She pulled it tight and Cullen hissed through his teeth. When she was finished Cullen’s skin was already pale, blood had soaked through the compress and he was leaning against her almost entirely, the weight of his armor adding weight to the already large man. Cullen looked up to her for a moment and she caught that his pupils were fully blown, before he returned his head to her shoulder, the weight of his own head weighing on him. _Come on, Cullen, hold on. Hold on._

“Where is he,” she heard a man call somewhere in the crowd that had gathered once they realized the assassin was dead and they were no longer in danger.

“Here! ” she shouted, noticing the crowd had not parted for the frantic man, “Let him through!”

Soon a young man, barely in his twenties came through with a kit in his hand and kneeled by the Commander, “We’ll have to remove that and then clean it before I can apply the antidote,” he said completely transfixed on the arrow in Cullen’s shoulder.

The youthfulness in his voice cause Cullen to turn his head, “Oh, good,” obviously put off by the man’s age.

“Don’t sass the healer,” he said as he rummaged through the pack, “I happen to be one of the prodigies that Empress Celene is sponsoring at the University, so I would appreciate the decency,” he pulled out a bottle, “of being considerate of the man, “he sprinkled a powder on Cullen’s shoulder, “who is going to save your life”.

“Apologies,” Cullen shifted.

“Save his life and you have a job for the rest of yours,” she looked to him and he didn’t seem to recognize her, “With the Inquisition. I am the Inquisitor and the man you’re healing is my Commander…who saved my life by stepping in front of,” she was trying to keep her composure, her voice slightly shaking, “In front of an arrow meant for me”.

“I believe I’ll take you up on that,” he snapped his fingers and burned the end of the arrow clean off, “Should you not care that I am a mage, Knight Captain,” he looked to Cullen who shot him back a look.

“Do I know you?” Cullen asked through his tensed jaw.

“I’m going to pull this out now,” he started to pull and Cullen immediately reached for Scáthach’s hand, “you saved me in Kirkwall, I’m sure you don’t remember, I was quiet,” he stopped pulling, “Drink this, for the pain and this for infection” he handed Cullen two vials that was on his hip and Cullen took both in his hand and gulped them down, obviously the taste was despicable. The healer reached in his pack and pulled out a couple of long strips of cloth that he then shoved in a poultice to soak whatever it was up into the cloth.

“Wait,” Cullen paused, “Étienne? The boy in the library?”

The healer stopped to look at him, “Yes, you told me to hide to keep safe then you shouted that the library was empty. I need to pull this out now,” Cullen nodded and the young man pulled the arrow through and Cullen screamed, despite the initial wound being numb, the surrounding area was not.

As soon as the arrow was out it was gushing blood and Étienne reached into the jar and pulled out the strips of cloth, “This will sting from some time but it will deliver the antidote and fight infection,” he sighed, “Now it’s all up to you, I’m afraid”.

“Lovely,” Cullen managed as Scáthach was helping him to his feet.

“You should let him rest for at least the night here,” Étienne said as he was wiping the blood off his hands, “If he survives the night, then he’ll be in the clear,” he started packing up his potions, “I’ll be by later tonight to change the bandage and check for infection, well, it will be infected, but how bad it gets should be minimal,” he stood up and looked to Scáthach, “I’ll bring you notes on care as well”.

“Thank you, Étienne,” he smiled at her when she said his name, “We’ll be in the Inn around the corner, top floor, with the guards posted outside,” she held Cullen against her, helping him stand, “My offer still stands, of course”.

“Yes, thank you,” Cullen managed to get out before Scáthach started leading him back to the inn.

 

\--5 days later—

They had returned to Skyhold exhausted. Étienne gave Scáthach extensive notes and she cared for the Commander as much as she could while on the road back. Cullen, mostly, seemed more annoyed than exhausted. With his shoulder in a sling his duties around Skyhold would be extremely limited and just being aware of that has made Cullen short and inconsolable. Once through the gates, the news spread like wild fire. _The Commander is hurt- bad. Will he be able to fight? Will he still teach us to fight? Did he really step in front of the shot meant for the Inquisitor?_

 

Cullen, of course, ignored all comments made to him while he was being helped up the stairs to their room. His irritation growing with each door held for him _-I have a good arm, I can open it_ , each apology- _what the fuck are you apologizing for,_ each offer of help- _I’m fine._

Cullen sat down to have Scáthach untie the sling and winced as he accidentally leaned too far back, cursing under his breath at the contact. She sat the kettle to boil and went about preparing to change his bandage and get him into less restricting clothes. Cullen didn’t mind her helping but it was her constant reminders that were wearing on him. He couldn’t help it, and more than once he had to shoo the staff out of their room, eventually locking them out from the latch on their side of the door while Scáthach was in the closet looking for his biggest shirt he had. She came back to help him change out of the shirt and remove the old bandage that was soaked through. The puncture wound was still bright red and the skin around had bruised badly. The young man used what magic he could but the poison had already taken hold of some of the tissue; “The rest will have to heal on its own time, I’m afraid,” he said.

 

“Ok, Cullen,” she had the poultice in her hand, “This will probably sting,” she pulled a bandage out of the boiling water with tongs and once it was cool she wiped away the dried blood. _That’s not so-Maker that burns._ He looked to her and she was gingerly reapplying the poultice.

“Scáthach,” she looked to him, brows drawn together.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I,” he grimaced as the tincture kept settling, “I’m sorry,” _I let my guard down…_

“What,” she reached for the clean cloth and began adjusting his shoulder slowly to put it in a new sling.

A knock interrupted, “Ma’am? I’ve come to bring you and the Commander dinner,” she called.

“Come in,” Scáthach kept tying the sling.

“I’m afraid I can’t, ma’am, it’s locked from your side,” Scáthach looked to Cullen who mouthed “sorry”.

“I’ll be right there,” she tied the sling off and covered Cullen’s bare chest with a blanket.

 

Once dinner was set and the staff was out of the room, Cullen joined her at the small table they usually used for chess games. Most of the meal was silent, Cullen very happy that she let him feed himself and even happier that it was stew and only required one hand. The silence, however, only made Cullen’s thoughts sink in more; _I should’ve never left her side, I knew something was wrong. I should’ve stayed right behind her. We should’ve left. If I had not made it in time…If she was- If I lost her._ Cullen’s uninjured arm's fist was balled, a sneer had come over his face, his jaw clenched and his anger was now projecting to Scáthach who was still picking at her stew. _She should’ve listened to me. She should have stayed here. She should have never gone to Val Royeaux, never mind **shopp**_ _ **ing** it. She should’ve known better. _

Cullen’s anger built so much he hit the table and made her jump, “Maker, what are-“

“You should’ve never gone to Val Royeaux,” Cullen leaned forward, and spoke louder “you should’ve listened to me!”

Scáthach leaned back looking thoroughly unimpressed with the Commander’s outburst, “So this is what’s been going on in your head”, she crossed her arms.

“You could’ve died! Does that not matter to you? Or did you forget you-” He was seething.

“Don’t you dare,” she pointed at  him.

“So you didn’t forget? You just decided to be irresponsible about it?”

 _Wrong. Words. “_ How _dare_  you,” she stood.

“How dare _I_ ” he stood.

She wanted to shout and scream at him, but she bit her tongue, ready to just walk away and cool down, almost to the stairs, until she heard him say ever so softly, “Typical”.

 

“ _Typical_ ,” she turned around, “You don’t get to make my decisions for me _regardless_ of the fact that I’m carrying your child,” she was closing in on him when she noticed his anger had faltered into sheer panic. Scáthach turned at the sound of a bag dropping.

“Mia,” Cullen barely managed to let the word leave his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Way to go you two.
> 
> Well, school is under full swing already so I will be working and completing just at a much slower rate than I would like. As usual, thank you for reading and I hope it was enjoyable.


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